


Sippy Cup

by bearinapotatosack



Series: Harry Potter [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alcohol Withdrawal, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fred Lives, M/M, Post-Hogwarts, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-21 01:34:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17033872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bearinapotatosack/pseuds/bearinapotatosack
Summary: Percy struggles staying sober after celebrating Puddlemere United’s win in their league. He relives his actions over the course of the war as his family realise how damaged he truly is.





	Sippy Cup

**Author's Note:**

> This contains alcoholism and alcohol immensely so don’t read this if you’re triggered by these subjects!

I’m The pub was loud. Immensely so. Almost to the point where it fatigued him to stay in his position.

Percy shifted his glasses as he joined his boyfriends at the pub, followed closely by three of his younger brothers, sister and Harry Potter- who was part of the family by this point anyway. As the group joined the cheering quidditch team, Percy suddenly came to the realisation of the pure extent of the alcohol on display in the pub.

He gulped. This week had gone immensely slowly, it seemed to crawl and plod along with the speed of a tortoise. For the sake of Oliver and Marcus, he had gone sober for the entirety of the week so far.

It was easy to avoid drinking at work, just don’t take anything to work with you and you’ll be fine were Marcus’ words. It was also simple to avoid drinking at home, they had removed every bottle that contained even the slightest percent of alcohol.Except for one. A singular bottle of Firewhisky that he kept miniaturised under his desk in their bedroom. He’d prevented the use of for the week, allowing all pain to manifest inside of him as he attempted to keep his promise to the two people who had changed his mind about true love.

“Percy? I told you he zones out!” Fred was lightly shaking his arm to bring himself back up to air after drowning in the dark pit that was his inner monologue. Percy peered upwards and loosened his vice-like grip that he’d developed on the bar surface. “There he is! What are you drinking mate?”

He swallowed as he struggled to keep his mind off the multitude of choices that he could’ve chosen, but with the knowledge of Marcus’ eyes on his back and Oliver’s hand on his shoulder, he opened his drying mouth. “Just water please,”

“Water? Come on, Ol’ just celebrated the biggest victory of his career and you’re just having water?” George smirked and lightly shoved Percy’s tense arms.

“Yeah, what happened to the new and improved reckless Percy?” Ginny said with equal enthusiasm as her older brothers.

“He’s resting, isn’t sober Percy fun enough for you?” It wasn’t really a question, more of a statement than anything. “Besides, I’m tired anyway,”

George raised an eyebrow before ordering everyone’s drinks and paying for them. The conversation started up again, like a rusty old car, slow at first but running smoothly until a problem appeared.

Percy sat down on the nearest bar stool and sipped his water as his gaze fell upon the countless alcoholic beverages that filled the hands of those around him. His concentration was faltering, struggling to chip into any conversation. Ron and Harry peered his way as they listened to Ginny’s dramatic reenactment of her first practice with the Holyhead Harpies. He shot them a small smile and sipped his water as he cracked his hands to calm his withdrawal anxiety.

A dull aching feeling began to swirl from his gut, spiralling out of control as trickles of sweat appeared on his forehead. ‘ _Damn you, withdrawal symptoms,_ ’ he thought as he gulped down the remaining water.

The whispering voice of Oliver stroked his ear and made Percy jump as he slipped in and out of a trance. “We’ll go home soon, I didn’t want to stay for ages anyway,”

Although they were likely to be true, Percy’s mind seemed to insist that they were only words of comfort. He sighed and announced to the group, “I’m going to go home, work’s been really stressful this week and I think a nap will be more worthwhile than sitting here bored,”

“Are you sure? One of us can go home with you?” Marcus’ voice was laced with a mixture of both an anxiety he’d seen frequently over the week and agitation that alluded to his own fears about Percy. “I don’t mind going home, I have to train the under twenty-one team tomorrow anyway,”

Attention seemed to be on him now, in truth he just wanted to escape home and lose his insecurities- in alcohol or sleep, he hadn’t yet decided. His mouth went dry as he spoke up, “I’m just planning on going to sleep, I’ll still be asleep by the time you all get back, okay?”

They shared a look, one of trust or at least one that tried to convince the other. After a few moments, ones that seemed like hours, of gazing into each other’s eyes, Marcus gave up with a sigh. He turned to face the chanting team of young adults who only seemed to be getting louder the more they drank.

But with his newly granted freedom, Percy stepped outside of the pub and breathed in a grand breath of cold, fresh air. ‘ _Now, to get home_ ,’ he thought as he walked into an alleyway to apparate home.

* * *

Crack!

Percy appeared in the hallway to his flat, he fumbled around in his pocket for his key whilst anxiously tapping his foot. The withdrawal symptoms kept on coming in waves, drowning him under the sweating and the shaking and the nausea. Almost every night was filled with the immense pain of throwing up all of that day’s food and sweating until the sheets were soaked through.

And the nightmares.

Nightmares that echoed inside his mind for days on end. Nightmares that made him short of breath. Nightmares that never disappeared. Nightmares that could only be erased by alcohol.

On the topic of alcohol, as Percy’s fatigued state entered the homely apartment, his busy mind failed to decide whether he was simply going to fall asleep or lose his troubles in the heavenly bronze liquid. The appeal of the firewhiskey was beginning to become irresistible.

He couldn’t help but want to forget the week’s problems.

He couldn’t help but itch to grab the bottle and intoxicate himself.

He couldn’t help but idolise the bliss state that he knew he’d be encompassed in.

However, he made a promise to Oliver and Marcus that he’d try and stay sober and no matter the amount of perks that his mind could think of, the guilt that he would experience wouldn’t be worth the relaxation. They had seen the extreme lows that Percy had reached since they decided to start their relationship, part of his mind kept insisting that there had been more lows than highs in their relationship.

But as he entered the bedroom, his eyes were instantly drawn to the light brown, oak desk that sat opposite to the bed- the same desk that hid his only bottle of escape. Instead, he collapsed face first onto the neat, layered quilts that covered the bed, a deep groan was emitted from the pain-filled man. His body sunk into the soft warmth that was the closest to heaven Percy thought he would ever reach.

Yet the call of alcohol was still there in the back of his mind; should he just give up and beat his mind to the chase? It did seem appealing. Gradually Percy sat up from his unmoving position on the bed and found himself hovering in front of the desk.

It was there. Just sitting there maturing with age in the drawer. He couldn’t deny his nature, waste not want not. Percy did truly long to feel the comforting burning sensation slip down his throat, so why waste something that he was looking forward to so much?

Reaching into the thick oak drawer, his hand rummaged around before landing on the cold glass bottle- the source of his peace. With a flick of the wand that was sitting in his pocket, he enlarged the bottle and hurriedly made his way to the kitchen- where he poured two fingers of the whiskey into the sparkling glass.

Percy couldn’t help but grin as he recalled the joyous feeling that he adopted while drunk. The gentle buzz that entered his head was addictive alone, along with the overall feeling of finally letting go of his guilt- he much prefered being drunk than sober. Whenever the heavenly liquid would enter his system, he seemed to be much more appealing than before, he’d take more risks and people would tend to start conversations whenever he was drunk.

Whatever the effects were on others, alcohol was the main cause for him being liked and after years of forcing himself to live in solitude, he wasn’t going to let anything in his life change his second chance. Percy lifted the weighted glass to his mouth and filled his bland mouth with the beautiful burning taste of Firewhisky .

It slipped down his raw throat and warmed up his insides, a low burning sensation came and past. He opened his moist lips and sang out into the echoing apartment: “Finally, a bit of bloody relief,”

A few minutes passed, no one came.

More time passed, no one came and Percy had given up on the glass.

An hour had passed, no one came and Percy had finally broke down his body’s increasing alcohol tolerance.

Time had disappeared, no one came and Percy was giggling on the floor of his flat with a half a bottle of Firewhisky.

* * *

“Okay, let’s be quiet, Percy may be asleep,”

“Olly, I’ll go in first, just to check what state he’s in,”

“Come on, why would he lie to us again?” Oliver paused while unlocking the door. “He looked you in the eye and told you he’d be sleeping, don’t you trust him?”

“I trust him, but he’s tried all this before and look how he what he did after,” Marcus touched Oliver’s hand as he continued to unlock the door and carefully stepped into the dangerous apartment.

As the group outside waited for the verdict, the remaining people who had no knowledge of Percy’s state, hypothesised on what could possibly be so dangerous. The door closed again and Marcus returned looking sorrow: “He’s drunk,”

“Again?”

“I told you he wouldn’t be asleep,” Marcus stated as he led the group into the flat, they were greeted with the light giggling of a drunk Percy Weasley. A singular bottle of Firewhisky was sitting on the coffee table being held in the strong clasp of an intoxicated man. Oliver threw his keys on the table and, joined by Marcus, addressed their drunk, alcoholic boyfriend.

His hair was messed and sticking up in all directions; glasses cast aside in a whirlwind of excitement and anxiety. As they creeped into his blurring vision, he took a swig of the Firewhisky and gulped quickly.

“Perce, can you stop!” Oliver immediately attached his hands to his hips, infuriated.

Percy lifted his arms in the air, still clinging to the almost empty bottle, as he slurred, “What? You wan’ me to use the glass?”

He grasped the thick glass from the coffee table and began to tip the caramel coloured liquid into it. Marcus dropped his face into his hands and yelled, “Stop drinking, Percy, just stop drinking!”

“Don’t tell me to stop fucking drinking!”

Smash!

The glass had been thrown, with bad aim mind you, at the plain patch of wall that stood between Oliver and Marcus. Almost as soon as the glass left his hand, Percy’s head collapsed into his shaking hands and an eruption of tears echoed around the room. The bottle had been slid almost off the table as his boyfriends joined him on the floor, encompassing him in warmth and love.

Oliver carefully laid his head on the shaking shoulder of his boyfriend while Marcus stroked his hair, “Look, I didn’t mean to shout, but you know how much we care about you,”

“No, no, I deserved that, what I don’t deserve is being treated so nice by you two,” Percy blubbed before carrying on. “I tricked you and got wasted, while you thought I was asleep,”

“Perce, we’ve accepted you for a lot worse than cheating us to get drunk, I’m not saying I’m happy about it but you’re beating yourself up over something that’s not worth it,” Marcus soothed him only a minute amount.

“Bu...but?”

“We shouldn’t have expected you to just carry on without a bit more support and…” Oliver sighed as guilt seeped into his system.

“And it’s just common sense that we should’ve done some research on how to help you,” Marcus continued gently patting the back of Oliver’s neck. “Now, why don’t you tell us why you decided to get drunk?”

Percy sniffed, his eyes red and blurring either from him not wearing his glasses or the tears painting his face it wasn’t clear, “People like me more when I’m drunk, I forget all the shit things I’ve done when I’m drunk and it’s just so much easier to live without all my guilt weighing me down!”

“What?!” An exclaim from behind the trio came, it was Ginny, her hands were clung to her face as she tried to comprehend the words coming out of his mouth. “Percy, plenty of people like, no love you, whether you’re drunk or not,”

“Yeah, and we all had to do things we weren’t proud of but it was a war, Perce, it doesn’t matter cause it helped defeat Death Eaters,” George crept over the back of the sofa and rustled the drunk man’s ginger hair before he spoke up.

“No. You don’t understand.” The group looked puzzled. “I didn’t do anythin’ for the war, the things I’m tryin’ to forget the guilt of things you wouldn’t forgive me for,”

This didn’t help everyone’s confusion, and they non verbally questioned further. “I can’t say, can’t I just get sobered up and calm down?”

Marcus sighed and retracted his hand, after shaking his head for a while he looked at Oliver from over Percy’s head. Their look seemed to have a conversation, a few minutes later he spoke up.

“You can’t expect anything to get better if you don’t talk about it, we know some of the things you’re talking about but they’re your family, don’t they deserve to know why?” His words only caused the Weasleys to smile awkwardly and attempt to hide the blatant worry on their faces.  

Percy’s face went even more red as he shook his head frantically, his mouth drew into a thin line, he wasn’t talking any time soon. Thick tears fell down his face as he began to harshly bite at the frail skin of his fingers- blood began to mix with the tears covering his hand. Sobs filled the flat once more and the group agreed that pushing any further wouldn’t help Percy at all.

“Fine. We’ll sober you up and go to bed early, alright?” Oliver cleared the silence and stood up, looking at Marcus to help him pick up Percy. “Just pinky swear us that you’ll try even harder to stay sober and talk to us!”

“Pinky swear?”

“Yeah, you can’t break a pinky swear,” Fred explained from behind them.

“Like an unbreakable curse?” Percy raised his eyebrow and looked slightly scared. Maybe if he was sober he’d be able to remember what such things were, but at this point all he could think of was the possibility that he was being forced into making an unbreakable curse. “I’m not makin’ an unbreakable curse to stay sober,”

Harry finally spoke up, “No, it’s not a magic thing, it’s a Muggle thing. If you want to make a promise that you’ll do something, then you link pinky fingers and it supposedly can’t be broken.” Percy’s mind clicked and his anxiety disappeared- partially.

“Oh okay, I pinky swear that I’ll stay sober and talk to you guys more,” He waved his pinky around before Marcus and Oliver linked theirs.

* * *

Soon after, they wished everyone goodnight with words of advice and hugs, it took awhile for everyone to be convinced that he’d be okay but eventually it was just the three of them. Percy sighed and put on the glasses he’d retrieved from the sofa; he drank so many glasses of water that he had to run to the toilet multiple times within the hour.

“Do you wanna go for a shower or just go to bed?” Marcus whispered close to his ear making Percy jump. “It doesn’t have to be anything sexual but, you know, we could make something of it,”

Oliver made a humming noise from the kitchen where he was washing up Percy’s glass and checked the cupboards for any alcohol.

“Alright, if you’re both offering,” He laughed and got up to walk to the shower, being followed by his two boyfriends. After a few minutes, the water was heated up and the three men were stroking each other’s hair and held in a warm embrace. Percy felt warmer than any Firewhisky had ever made him feel, this was an eternal flame, he knew that this was going to last.

The night was thick when they got out, stars twinkled and the glowing light of street lamps shone through the beige curtains. Oliver entered first, setting out the trio’s pyjamas on the quilt whilst Marcus entered carrying a now tipsy Percy over his shoulder. They got into the bed and immediately found each other, yet again the warm feeling in his body burned stronger, more powerful and more welcome than ever.

So he closed his eyes and forgot the fuzzy feeling in his head, concentrated on the two pairs of arms encompassing him and fell into a wonderfully deep slumber.

 


End file.
